The fairness of it all
by public static void
Summary: Pansy and Blaise know they won't be able to reach their goals unless someone changes the system. Sadly, there are not many people who can and even fewer people that want to.


The Potions classroom was unusually illuminated. Windows were open and the chandelier hanging from the cavernous ceiling had more than half its capacity filled with candles. Pansy noticed, though, that there were no torches. It was strange because in the six years Professor Snape had been her teacher he never showed love for the outside light.

"This place looks _cheery_ ," sarcastically commented Blaise from behind her.

Pansy responded with a shrug. She never cared for the darkness Professor Snape imposed on them and rather preferred to actually see the ingredients she was cutting and shredding instead of just going by the light of the fire. She also noticed how Draco ignored her and Blaise, going forward to take a seat before any of them tried to speak to him. Pansy didn't like that.

Draco, while suddenly accepting her romantic advances, was pulling away from them. He was beginning to spend more and more time alone, and occasionally with only Greg and Vincent. Pansy was not an example of the morally-perfect witch but at least she didn't like to torture mudbloods and muggles the way the pair of brutes did. Her father had shared that little secret with her, expecting Pansy to distance herself from them.

It wasn't good that Draco preferred them. It meant he really was trying to do the right thing by the Dark Lord, and while Pansy agreed with his goal, she didn't agree with his methods. A shudder ran through her body at the thought of torture.

She was even more confused at Draco's behavior when he didn't let Blaise sit with him.

"I'm sitting alone today," he told them without making eye contact. He was ashamed, then, and Pansy would love to know of what.

Pansy heard Blaise's snort.

"Let's sit here, Pansy," he said and pulled back one chair for her. She took the seat and smiled in thanks.

"This should be interesting," Pansy spoke curiously. "I wonder if Old Sluggie is any good."

"Well, he knows what kind of people get to his side so, everything else considered, he should at least be an interesting contact."

"I would rather prefer if he were a good teacher," Pansy said with a focused glance on the cauldrons already over the teacher's table.

There were three medium-sized pewter cauldrons that were good for almost any kind of potion, even many of the complicated brews from _Moste Potente Potions_ could be there. There was also a small cauldron with a gold potion. Pansy knew it could only be Felix Felicis, a particularly dark blood potion that _should not_ be taught to people like these morons, or a _Polyjuice_ potion with the DNA of someone really powerful.

"Still set on becoming a Healer?" Blaise asked and she almost didn't catch what he said, obsessing over the cauldrons' contents.

"Not really," she admitted with defeat painted in her voice. "I was advised not to pursue any career with human contact."

She really hoped Blaise would both get the resentment in her voice and the hint to not to speak of it. Instead, he laughed at her confession. Sadly, Blaise didn't get the point.

Last year, Professor Snape had destroyed her goal of being a prominent and powerful Healer and set her on the path of medical research.

 _People would never accept someone like us as their Healers_ , he had told her and Pansy understood. She was too bold and would have harsh bedside manners, and that was only what Pansy thought. Many people would also refuse to be attended by someone from a notoriously dark family, even if most of the time they were the ones with above average abilities.

"By whom? Was it Snape?"

Pansy reluctantly nodded and began to casually pass the pages of her book. "Apparently, Slytherins are accepted into St Mungo's training program only to be discreetly sent off to the branch clinics and research facilities, where not many people can see them. We're treated like house-elves, but of course the good people of the _light_ side refuse to see _that_."

This time, she was relieved when Blaise only nodded. He would understand the problem with that kind of prejudiced thinking.

"Are you still wanting to become an Auror?" she asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to annoy him as he had annoyed her.

"Don't remind me," he said, rolling his eyes and making Pansy smirk in triumph. "Snape and McGonagall advised against it. Said if I wanted something with action involved I should pursue curse-breaking or even try at a foreign Auror Academy. McGonagall even said I was very bright, but not on the right side of politics. As if she can say anything about that, always favoring those who share her political alignment."

Pansy lifted a brow, clearly unsure of what to make of Blaise's revelation.

"I can't believe she said it."

And she really couldn't, because while the Transfiguration professor didn't treat them wrongly, she never showed any hint of being against the prejudice surrounding Slytherin.

"Well, clearly the situation with our _dear_ High Inquisitor made her reconsider all she believed in."

"I don't think she reconsidered it," Pansy said with a grimace, thinking about her teacher.

McGonagall was brilliant, very talented and intelligent. She was also not focused enough to get the bigger picture, always choosing the honorably good solution instead of trying to do the best thing overall.

"You better shut up," Draco called from his lonely table in front of theirs. "Teacher's coming."

They turned to the door just in time to see big, fat Professor Slughorn walk into the classroom. Pansy smiled when the professor looked their way, and she knew he would treat them fairly: he had that glint in his eyes that spoke of pursuing talent and power instead of honor and righteousness.

Maybe with Slughorn there, Slytherins had a chance to prove themselves worthy.


End file.
